


Pomp and Circumstance

by LaKoda0518, Lisa4Language



Category: Martin Freeman - Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Blowjobs, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fingering, Graduation Gown, Light Bondage, Martin Freeman/Reader - Freeform, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Pure Smut, Reader-Insert, Swallowing, Thank you to my readers, martin freeman - Freeform, real person fic, scene play, smut for smut's sake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:47:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22964131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaKoda0518/pseuds/LaKoda0518, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisa4Language/pseuds/Lisa4Language
Summary: You find Martin's old cap and gown in a spare room while he's at work. You know he was given an honorary degree from Central, but you weren't aware that he still had the robe. Your discovery sets your imagination on fire and you can't wait for him to get home. Will he be intrigued or put off by the picture you intend to paint for him? There's only one way to find out...
Relationships: Martin Freeman/Reader, Martin Freeman/You
Comments: 23
Kudos: 63





	Pomp and Circumstance

**Author's Note:**

> SO, I just crossed the 300 follower mark on Twitter and I wanted a way to say a massive "THANK YOU" to my readers and followers... and what better way to do that than to give you the gift of SMUT! Let alone, smut that is written solely with you in mind! :D This started out as basic plot banter between Lisa4Language and myself and before we knew it, it had grown into a PWP of epic proportions! So, in all seriousness, thank you so much for all of the love and support you all have given me over this past year and a half! I am so honored to have each and every one of you rooting for me as I continue to share my work with you.
> 
> A special thank you to Lisa4Language for her co-authoring skills and for helping me rein this monster in and make something of it before it could spin out of my control. Her editing skills are amazing and I'm so grateful for the talent and help that she poured into this with me! Love you, girl! Let's do this! LOL

_5:43 pm_

The clock on your home screen flashes, taunting you as you wait. You've been sitting on this squashy blue sofa for twenty minutes, debating whether or not what you're about to do is actually worth the risk. Will he be surprised? Maybe a bit aroused? Or will he just look at you in confusion, unsure of what you expect from him? You sigh and let your shaking hands smooth the fabric of the robe, worrying the hem so that it lies flat. It's not easy trying to surprise him. For all you know, he might even be angry that you've gotten into something so personal and taken it upon yourself to try it on in an attempt to make one of his finest achievements into a tool of seduction. 

You chew your bottom lip as doubt and worry swirl around in your head, much like leaves in a whirlwind, scattered and chaotic. You're thinking you might be overstepping your bounds but you don't have time to dwell on it. The key shifts in the lock on the front door and your heart leaps into your throat. The choice has been made for you and there isn't anything you can do about it now, so you quash your inhibitions. The thrill of the game takes over as the door opens and a satisfied little smirk settles over your features just in time. 

Martin walks through the door and tosses his keys into the little ceramic tray on the Bombay chest. He lets out a tired sigh before dropping his bag to the floor and shrugging off his coat. He hasn't noticed you, yet: his headphones are settled firmly over his ears and you can hear the music coming through them and you recognize the song instantly. The melody is sad and his expression is despondent, but you're determined to see this through. There's no hiding what you're up to now - he seems to need the distraction, anyway - so you cross your legs and lean forward as he pulls out his phone and pauses the track.

"When were you gonna tell me you still had this?" you ask, doing your best to keep your tone confident. A black graduation cap sits perfectly on your head as the matching gown parts in just the right way over your thigh. "I found it while cleaning the spare room today."

Your voice breaks the silence and he slips his headphones off before turning to look at you. He stops dead in his tracks. It's clear that he's startled at first; his eyes widen a bit and he gapes at you. He looks you up and down, his head tilting as he gives you a curious little half-smile before licking his lips. "Are you... wearing anything under that?" 

You arch one eyebrow and your smirk grows as your inner flirt threatens to run rampant. "Who wants to know?" 

He pauses and narrows his eyes slightly before raising both of his own eyebrows in response. "The one the robe belongs to, that's who. Now, be careful with that; you might get it dirty," he says, his voice taking on a slightly authoritative tone.

You can't help the mischievous grin that takes over your features as the innocent warning leaves his lips. Something in the way he says it strikes you as interesting though and the impulse to poke the metaphorical bear wins out. "Ooohhh… Is it special? I thought you didn't do 'sentiment'?"

He huffs, eyeing you carefully. "I don't. I just don't want to have to do the cleaning up." Before you can respond to that statement, he gives a subtle head shake followed by a shrug: "You know what? Whatever; it's no big deal, the robe. That's why I never thought to mention it."

You let out a dramatic sigh, knowing the theatricality of it will be enough to wind him up. "If you say so," you sing-song in response, getting up and sauntering into the bedroom, the robe falling open a bit as you shrug.

It only takes a few seconds before he follows you into the room and leans a shoulder against the door jamb, arms crossed, one ankle over the other: "What does that mean, then?"

You throw a glance at the door and roll your eyes as you shake your head. You're not really irritated at him; it's just fun to wind him up sometimes. "God, you're thick, aren't you? Good thing you've got your looks."

He blinks dangerously and stands straighter but keeps his arms crossed. "You'll want to watch that attitude. And what the fuck do you mean 'thick'?"

You can't help but laugh darkly, already feeling the heat of his temper where it bubbles just below the surface of his usually cool emotions. "Well, I'm not talking about your thighs... And  _ you _ can watch my attitude. You can watch it as I do whatever the fuck I want with it."

Your retort lands just the way you want it to as he scoffs and raises his eyebrows once again. He glares at you before looking down and taking a breath to steady his self-control. After a moment, he looks back up, eyes narrowed: "I'm not sure I like the way you're testing me, love. You keep talking like that and I'll be watching as I do whatever the fuck _ I _ want with a lot more than your attitude."

You feel the familiar warmth of arousal as it spreads throughout your body, but you stand your ground, narrowing your eyes right back. "Not hardly. You won't be touching me," you answer, cooly. 

You're playing with his temper and you can tell he loves it as he takes a few steps further into the room while pulling off his jumper. He opens the top two buttons of his button-down and keeps eye contact with you: "You don't think so? Do you want to try me? Because I'll tell you right now: you've been running that mouth of yours since I walked in the door, and I can think of a few ways to put it to better use."

He moves forward still, slowly advancing towards you with a dark smile, until you're almost touching, then stops. He looks you right in the eye as he runs one fingertip along the inside edge of the robe: "I'll do what I want with you, I think."

Your skin heats as he closes the gap between you and you eye him cautiously before taking a step back. The whole scenario sets your senses on fire, but you continue to toy with him, playing up to the thrill of the chase that he loves so much. "I said don't touch me."

Something shifts in his eyes, a spark of desire as he licks his lips again: the telltale sign that he's losing his resolve. He follows you as you step back and continues to stalk you up until your back hits the wall. With a wicked grin, he braces his left hand on the wall beside your head and leans in close so you are eye to eye, "Yeah, I heard you the first time you said it." He puts his right hand at the base of your throat and growls, "A lot of good all that talking seems to be doing you."

You gasp as your back hits the wall, but you're distracted by Martin's hand as it settles against your throat. He knows your limits as he applies minimal pressure, but you don't want to give in this easily. You huff out a breath and shake your head to loosen his grip, knocking his hand away. "No… Stop."

It isn't your safe word, so he knows it's an act; it's a scene and it's one he loves to explore. He braces his right hand on the wall to bracket your head and dips his head so that his mouth is next to your ear. "Oh, you're getting angry now, are you?" He laughs, low in his throat, so low that it's barely more than a rumble. "But you don't really want me to stop, do you?" For a few moments, he pants against your ear, his breathing laboured as he's barely able to control himself as he growls: "Or else you'd do something about it." He grabs a fold of the robe near your right hip and pulls you forward a bit, holding you against his front. "Wouldn't you?"

A wave of desire crashes over you, threatening to suck you under, but you snap yourself out of it as your hand comes up to smack him across the cheek. 

He reels a bit from the slap; it's the final push that he needs to abandon his self-control as he looks back at you, all traces of a smile gone. His brows are drawn and his eyes have gone hard and cold. It's a far cry from the downtrodden expression he'd come home with and you feel a small sense of relief. "You're not going to want to do that again." 

It's clear from the change that he needed this sort of distraction and you're more than happy to be of service but you can't give in to him just yet. Your own expression changes and you close your eyes, doing all you can to avoid his gaze. It's become a game of cat and mouse, now. If you look at him, you know it will all be over and you'll lose.

It isn't long before Martin's patience begins to wear thin. His hand slides up your body to grip your chin and he brings his face even closer to yours than before. Your noses brush as he grits his teeth. "Look at me," he growls out, keeping his grip firm but not forceful. _"Look_. _At_. _Me_."

The command nearly breaks you, but you bite down on the inside of your cheek. If he wins, you'll never hear the end of it. You keep your eyes closed, almost daring him to open them for you, as you tilt your chin out of his grip. "Please, let go," you say, feigning discomfort.

Martin's expression shifts again as he picks up on your strategy. A hint of a smile returns, but there is something menacing in it as he abruptly says, "You shut the door on 'please, let go' the moment you wouldn't shut your mouth. A bit late for that now." He presses his chest and hips against yours, pinning you to the wall effectively. "So now..." he groans, grazing his teeth along your right ear, "this..." - he wraps an arm around your waist and yanks you closer - "...is going my way." He growls the last words and bites down hard on your earlobe.

You yelp and struggle against him, relishing the pain and the weight of his body, all while trying and intentionally failing to shove him off.

"Oh, you're still making noise, hm? Now, who's being thick?" He laughs under his breath at your pitiful attempt to shove him away and uses the arm around you for leverage as he spins you around. He presses your front flush against the wall and puts his other hand over your mouth. "We've talked about this love. You're going to be quiet," he explains, pulling your head to the side before running his tongue up the side of your neck, "until I tell you not to be."

Your resolve begins to crumble yet again as your eyelids flutter. You can feel his hardened length press against your ass for the first time and your knees nearly buckle out of desperation. Martin's deep chuckle sounds in your ear once again and it's killing you to lose, but there's still one card you haven't played yet. You don't think too long about it before you bite down on his hand and throw all your weight back against him in order to overpower him for a brief moment.

"Fuck!!" He shouts in pain and snatches his hand away from your mouth, seething as he inspects it. He snaps his head up and licks his lips again. "Ohh, you're really asking for it, aren't you?" 

You're panting heavily, feeling accomplished, but the triumphant smirk you're wearing doesn't last long. He surges forward and snaps you around yet again, grabbing both hands as he pins them above your head with one of his own. He uses his free hand to undo the buckle of his belt, whipping it out of his belt loops as he brings it up and wraps it around your wrists. 

You yelp in surprise as the leather bites into your skin, and your arousal wins out once and for all. 

He knows he's won and he seems to radiate with absolute pride as he bends down to get his weight under you before throwing you over his shoulder. The muscles in his back flex and your mouth waters at the sight; you want nothing more than to taste the ridge of his shoulder blades as you kiss your way up his neck, but that isn't his plan for you today. 

With one fluid movement, he shrugs your body off of his shoulder and deposits you onto the bed gently. He stands at the edge of the bed, staring down at you with a calculated look in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine, but you shift your hips in an attempt to make the robe fall open over your thigh. It works and he can't resist reaching out to run his fingers over the newly exposed skin. 

"Hmmm… is there something you want, love?" He asks, stroking your bare thigh as he stares down at you intently. 

You can tell he's toying with you but you decide to humour him for a moment. Rolling your hips up in response to his touch, you let out a little whimper in an attempt to entice him. Staring up at him, you chew your bottom lip, silently pleading with him and showing a bit of that vulnerability that he loves so much.

He studies you for a moment before gently tugging your ankles until your arse rests on the very edge of the bed. His fingers trail down your thighs as he sinks to his knees in front of you. His beard scrapes against the insides of your knees as he starts a series of sensual kisses along your inner thighs. The contrast of soft lips to coarse hair is enough to make you gasp as he works his way up between your legs and you know he wants you to beg. Begging isn't exactly in your nature but the word slips out against your will: "Please…"

He chuckles darkly against your skin, nipping the sensitive flesh teasingly.  _ Fuck… _

"Ah, you've finally learned to use that word properly, have you?" he asks, his voice low yet triumphant. "Very good; I'm proud of you." Another kiss, another quick nip to the crease of your thigh. "Now…" he starts, but the words trail off as he leans forward to lap just once at your entrance before withdrawing his tongue, "isn't there something you need to say to me?" 

You can hear the trademark "asshole smirk" in his tone and you fight the urge to groan out loud. He's still playing games with you. If you apologize the way he wants you to, he will never let you live it down. He's been in a mood lately, turning each new encounter into a challenge and bringing out a playful and mischievous side of himself. You're not exactly sure what's gotten into him but the change is more than welcome. It's a shift away from his previously melancholy demeanour toward something much more healthy, so you let him explore it as often as he wishes. 

His breath is coming in little pants against your groin but, as tempting as it is to let him win, you just can't do it. You bit your lip and glance down at him, fixing him with a challenging smirk of your own, "It took you long enough..."

Martin puffs out a heavy breath this time, dropping his head and burying his face in the duvet. His slightly hysterical laugh is short and muffled by the duvet over his face as closes eyes and sighs deeply, "Oh, for fuck's sake..."

He lifts his gaze after a moment, shaking his head in disbelief as he points a finger at you. "You," he starts, unable to disguise his admiration, "you're trouble." He huffs out a breath of air and he stretches his neck as his hands settle on his hips.

You grin at him, perfectly happy to still be in the game. "Aww, sorry, love," you say, winking mischievously. "I know how much you love to win but I'm not giving up that easily,".

Martin chuckles and shakes his head once again. He rubs fingers over his eyes and drags them down his face to cover his mouth. He heaves a heavy sigh and he rides slowly before crossing to the opposite side of the room where the minibar is tucked into the wall. A stiff drink is obviously needed.

You watch the muscles of his back and shoulders as they strain against the fabric his button-up and the sight makes your mouth water. He takes down two glasses, pouring a bit of amber liquid into each before coming back to the bed. Despite the gentle smile on his face, his eyes look tired and a small part of you feels a bit guilty. He stands next to you and you sit up to lean against his side as you speak, "That was a bit cruel and I'm sorry."

He laughs and sips his scotch before glancing down at the glass in his other hand. He raises it to your lips and tips it toward you. "I should be saying that to you… Now, drink."

The command is gentle and more of a caring request. You oblige and take a drink from the glass, humming as the soothing burn settles in your throat. He lowers the glass and you let out a snort as his words register. "Oh, please... I was enjoying it. I just like to see how far I can push you before you crack."

The admission takes him by surprise and he turns to face you square on. He holds your gaze for a moment then knocks the rest of his drink back. "Oh really? Well, how did I do?"

You huff softly, shrugging your shoulders indifferently. "Mediocre… Stubbornness works against you and you give up easily after being broken." You turn to look at him, giving him a cheeky smile as his eyes narrow playfully.

He chews his lip for a moment then smiles before striding back to the minibar. "Well... Maybe I'll have to work on that. Especially if you're going to be putting me to the test." He pours himself another glass of scotch, taking it to the small sofa against the wall.

You frown as he sits and you let the graduation robe fall open a bit. "Giving up so quickly?" you taunt, unsure of what he's up to.

He sips his scotch and shakes his head, "No. Just getting comfortable." He sets his glass down on the end table and looks at you expectantly. "Why don't you come over here?"

You narrow your eyes a bit before manoeuvring yourself to stand - it's not as easy with your hands still belted at the wrists - before moving to sit next to him.

"Not there… Here," he says, gesturing to his lap.

You eye him curiously and stay firmly planted in your seat. You aren't falling for that trick, not this time.

He looks at you from the other end of the sofa and raises an eyebrow. After a few moments, he purses his lips. "You're not going to move, are you?"

The expression sends a shot of arousal straight through your body and you try to fight against it. You sit a little straighter and keep your eyes locked on his. "Nope," you retort, popping the "P" on the end of the word as you stare intently back at him.

It takes him a moment to register the confirmation but he simply nods and smiles slowly. "Right then," he answers as he stands and slowly steps in front of you. With a gentle touch, he places a finger under your chin to tip your face up. He looks at you for a second before reaching out with his free hand to push the robe down off of your shoulders. "Take that off."

Another command.

"Or what?" you ask. You tilt your head but sit perfectly still.

Martin takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he licks his lips. "Or I'll have to finish what I started earlier."

The thought makes your thighs twitch, remembering the feel of his beard against your skin, and you let out a quiet moan. "Well, then, by all means, don't let me stop you," you say, smiling innocently up at him.

He smiles back, saying nothing at first, as he leans forward to yank the robe down further, trapping your arms. "Oh, I won't," he growls as he pops the button of his jeans and tugs the zip down quickly.

You chew your lip, watching intently as your mouth waters at the thought of what he's about to do. You know exactly what he tastes like - you've done this so many times in the last few months it's a wonder your jaw hasn't come unhinged - but you know you have to try as hard as you can to resist the temptation. 

With a grunt, he reaches in and palms himself slowly through his pants; the blue plaid boxers suit him and you curse the needy whimper that escapes your lips. "You enjoyed that little game you were playing, didn't you?" he teases, stroking your cheek with his other hand.

You lick your lips, unable to take your eyes off the hand palming his cock, but you shrug in response. "Maybe... Why?"

He grins as you lick your lips, "You figured you'd won, didn't you?" His tone is teasing and he groans, pushing his jeans down over hips but leaving the boxers on.

_ Ah…This again…  _

You should have known, really. If there's one thing you know about Martin, it's that he's relentless. When he sets his sights on something, he won't stop until he gets it… but that doesn't mean you can't make it hard for him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes and lie back on the couch, putting your feet up.

And that's the final straw. 

His gaze hardens instantly and he lets a deep growl rip from the back of his throat. He surges forward and yanks you back up by the robe, grabbing a handful of your hair. Even though he's careful, it still shocks the hell out of you as he leans down to nip at the shell of your ear. "I told you I'd show you what that mouth was good for," he snarls and the scene takes off. In one fluid motion, he slips his cock out of his boxers and nudges the tip against your lips as the command echoes softly through the quiet bedroom: "Open."

Everything in you is begging you to submit to his will, yet you still smirk and clamp your jaw shut, enjoying the mild pain of your hair being pulled as he twists his fingers in the strands.

"Keeping your mouth shut now?" he huffs, stroking himself. His lips twist into a devilish smile, "Oh, I see - you're not ready for this, are you?" A new idea seems to have taken hold of his imagination and he lets go of your hair as he runs a thumb along your bottom lip, "Let's start small, shall we?" 

He pushes the tip of his thumb into your mouth, twisting the digit around your tongue. You whine around him, nearly losing your head before you nip at his thumb and swirl your tongue around it anyway.

Martin pushes his thumb in further, continuing to stroke himself as he whispers gentle praises. "That's it. Show me what you can do with that."

You watch his hand as it moves over his length and you begin to suck lazily at the digit still pressed between your lips, swirling your tongue around it. With a soft groan, you flick the tip of your tongue lazily against the pad of his thumb and tease him with tiny kitten licks.

His strokes come to a halt and he lets go of his length, moving his hand to finger the buttons of his shirt "Tsk tsk... That won't do, I'm afraid. I know you can do better than that; I know every little trick that tongue of yours can do," he says while making quick work of the buttons of his shirt. He removes his thumb from your mouth and switches it out for his index and middle fingers instead. "Maybe you need a bit more of a challenge."

A shiver runs down your spine as you huff and suck a bit more energetically, beginning to work your tongue over his fingers rhythmically. You can taste the pleasant saltiness of his skin as you hollow your cheeks and suck.

Above you, Martin hums approvingly, "That's much better, much more like it." He watches you work over his fingers as he slides one arm out of his shirt. "I think you might be ready for more. What do you think?"

Unable to fight the eagerness you feel at the thought of sucking him off, you deepthroat his fingers, taking them in up to the last knuckle, before smirking around them. The deep moan you draw out of him is completely rewarding and you whimper again, practically purring for him by now.

"Mmmmm. That's good; that's very good." His eyes slip closed and he leaves his fingers in your mouth for a moment before slowly withdrawing them. "I think I'll let you see what you can do with this," he says, letting his shirt fall to the floor before taking his cock in hand and guiding it to your mouth. "Go on. Impress me."

_ And, there he goes again... _

You bite back the little laugh that rises in your throat. It's cute how he thinks he can manipulate you into giving him what he wants. You've done this with him many times before and each time he tries and fails to rein you in as easily as he hopes. You quirk an eyebrow and lick a wide stripe up the underside of his cock before pulling away from him completely.

A knowing grin breaks over his features and he bites his lip. "Ohhh," he laughs, "It's like that, then?" With a gentle shake of his head, he shoves you by the shoulders to press you back against the sofa as he leans over you ."I suppose you need some incentive?" he goads, pushing the sides of the robe away before pulling your legs apart and reaching down between them with his wet fingers.

Your head drops back instinctively and your eyes slip closed, as his fingers graze your folds. A soft "oh" slips from your lips and you whine his name. 

The sound of his name echoing in the silence causes him to shudder and he grins as his fingers find you already wet and wanting. He breathes out a laugh through his nose, "Yeah, that's what I thought." He tugs the robe all the way down your arms, slipping your hands from your restraints long enough to free them from robe as he puts one hand on your neck, the fingers between your legs skating over you with just enough pressure to leave you begging for more.

The lack of satisfaction begins to drive you crazy and you struggle against the hand at your throat. His grip is firm but careful, knowing he can hurt you if he doesn't keep himself in check. He's belted your wrists together yet again but you claw at his hand and whine, feeling frustrated. "Please, do something..."

" 'Do something'? Like what, I wonder?" He teases, pressing his stubbled cheek to yours and running it down your face and neck as he moves down to your breasts. He runs the tip of his tongue very lightly around one nipple in agonizing circles before stopping abruptly. "I wonder..." He breathes out and gives the same treatment to the other one. His stubble scratches at your skin when he stops again and grins devilishly, "Or... maybe something like this…" Before you can blink, he suddenly gathers your wetness with his fingers and presses his fingers to your clit, massaging with unrelenting pressure.

A loud gasp betrays your surprise as you suck in a sharp breath. You whine his name yet again and tangle your fingers in the soft greying strands of his hair, tugging forcefully. Crying out and writhing beneath his hand, you know he isn't playing fair and the knowledge only serves to frustrate you. "Fuck..."

"Mmm, not yet, I'm afraid," he hums, moving his other hand from your neck and running his fingers down your body. Without warning, he slides his middle finger into you, still working your clit; as he begins to move his finger in and out, he puts his mouth back on your nipple and licks, sucks, and bites in earnest.

You growl and snatch his hair but quickly back down as he nips you. "Ouch!" you yelp, letting out another whimper as your body teeters on the edge of submission. 

He licks over the fresh bite marks dotting your skin as you cry out and lifts his head to look down at where his hands are working you over, "God, look at you... You're absolutely soaking." He slides his finger out of you, and plunges back in with two this time, fucking you with them for a few strokes before holding them up for you to see. "Look," he says, licking his lips as he eyes his dripping fingers, "At this rate, you'll certainly stain that robe you're sitting on, just like I said." He sighs and shakes his head with a dramatic flair, "There's only one thing for it." He sighs, dipping his head between your legs. He gets his mouth on you, running his tongue from your entrance up to your clit a few times before flattening his tongue and lapping at your clit, varying the pressure and the pacing. He places his hands behind your knees and presses your legs back and up so you're fully open to him.

The action takes you by surprise and you suck in a sharp breath as you grab at his hair again, arching your back and pulling his head as far forward as he will let you. Finally reduced to a whimpering soaked mess beneath him, you can't help but beg, "God, please ....." Tears well up in the corners of your eyes as you continue to plead with him; it feels much too good.

He smiles against you, swirling his tongue around your clit and then, suddenly, he stops. It's an earth-shattering pause that causes you to gasp, slamming you completely out of the scene. "What the-?"

Martin doesn't move; he doesn't even deign to look up at you. "Please what?" he prompts you, his voice low and gravelly.

His tone is tainted with lust and you swallow hard. If you tease him now, chances are he will likely walk away and leave you to your own devices, so you give yourself over to him completely. The belt digs into the delicate skin of your wrists as you move your fingers through his hair, caressing his scalp before speaking. "Please... More... Anything... Anything you want."

He paused, panting, before crawling over you, his thumb rubbing at you too lightly to do anything. He clears his throat, "Anything I want?" The question is loaded with wanton need and he keeps moving over you, shifting you until your back is against the armrest

You allow him to manoeuvre you, swallowing hard but you nod as he situates you. "What do you want...?"

He lets out a shaky breath and strokes your cheek, a bit of the scene falling away. "What you asked for before," he says, chewing his lip. All it takes is the little nod of confirmation from you and he grabs your legs, spreading them wide as he guides himself to your opening. He brushes the head of his cock up and down your slit and pauses, taking a moment to brush his thumb over your lips. "You asked for it," he warns and plunges inside of you, slowly, to the hilt

Before you can even draw breath, he's pushing into you. You cry out and claw at his shoulders, moaning loud enough that it echoes in the quiet. Your head is spinning with a thousand thoughts and you're suddenly grateful for the birth control shot you get every few months; feeling him inside you without any barriers brings a completely different level of pleasure to the experience.

You feel your bodies meet completely and he gives you a minute to adjust before he's sliding himself out, just to slam back home once again. "I was going to let you suck my cock before, but you seemed uninterested. So this is what you get instead." His voice seems controlled but is thrumming with lust underneath. He leans forward and whispers in your ear, "You can't just yell 'fuck' and not expect me to take it as an invitation." 

The words assault your senses, sending a shiver down your spine as he starts to pound into you with a steady, firm rhythm. You yelp, biting down on his shoulder, nearly drawing blood as you're rocked back by the force of his thrusts and lose the ability to form coherent words.

Martin hisses, sucking in a breath through his teeth at the bite and grabs onto your hips hard, straightening up. He pushes himself back, yanking you with him so you're lying flat and throws both of your legs over his shoulders as he grips you by the hips, lifts you and guides you to meet his every thrust

You shout, only slightly alarmed, but help him manoeuvre, melting and surrendering yourself to his mercy. You claw at his arms in an attempt to hold onto him and you dig your nails in an attempt to hold on.

He throws his head back and growls at your scratching, picking up his pace; he looks down at you and sees the state you're in. "Lock your ankles behind my neck," he says, all bite gone from the command.

Nodding, you do as he asks, crossing your ankles and feeling your nails draw blood at his forearms. You pant and whimper for more, pleading with him to take you faster, harder.

He winces at the feeling of your nails, but smiles and growls out, "You want to come, don't you? Beg me... Beg me to let you."

His request sends a jolt straight through your abdomen and you moan loudly. He's won and he knows it. He knows you won't deny him the victory now, not in the state you're in, and you want nothing more than to curse him and praise him all at the same time. "Oh, God... Fuck.. yes, please; please, let me," you whine, clawing at his arms in an attempt to pull him down and flush against you.

He follows as you melt beneath him, letting himself be pulled down; he holds himself up on one hand, balancing his weight as he reaches down to rub a thumb over your clit, stroking it with increasing pressure in time with his thrusts, "Yeah, that's good. Ask again nicely. Just like that."

Just as you expected, he's relentless. You cry out and beg again, "Please... Oh God please..." You sink your teeth into his shoulder once again and relish the shout that leaves his lips.

"Fuck!" he cries out, thrusting and increasing his strokes as he scoops his hips forward a bit to hit you at the right angle. You feel his body slapping against your ass with his efforts and he growls softly, "That's it, go ahead - come for me. I want to feel you come all around me."

His request is simple, yet loaded, and you yelp again as he hits the right spot over and over. Before you know it, you're coming hard, moaning and whimpering his name like a prayer.

The smile that lights his face as you spasm around him could put the sun to shame and he slows down to push into you deep and hard as he feels you coming down. Nearly out of breath, he leans forward close to you, his mouth not quite touching yours, as he breathes out, "Yes, that's it; I like the sound of my name in your mouth like that. I like it so much I want to taste it." Before the words are fully out of his mouth, he presses forward to kiss you, deep and messy, pushing his tongue against yours and running it along the inside of your lips.

You gasp into the kiss and grip his hair yet again, sighing softly as his beard scratches your face. You kiss him back just as wet and filthy all while tugging and pulling his hair.

He pulls back from the kiss after a few moments, sliding his cock out before pushing all the way into you again. He grinds into you, making you feel every inch as he looks down at the utter wreck that you are. "Ohh, good girl," he whispers and bites at the inside of your thigh where it still rests on his shoulder. His open mouth grazes along the reddened skin, his thick stubble irritating it even further.

You whine as he bites, then let out a huff, panting and melting back into the sofa as you go completely limp in his arms.

Feeling you sink beneath him, he stops moving, gently sliding your legs off of his shoulders as he leans over you and kisses you gently. His voice is soft as he nuzzles you and whispers, "Worn out, are you?" as he grinds into you once again, softer now.

You take a deep breath, shaking your head and smiling. It wouldn't be fair to give out on him now, no matter how tired you are. "No," you say, stroking his beard lightly, "Your turn..." You buck your hips up and into him, encouraging him to continue.

His blue eyes still hold a bit of fire in them as he smiles back at you, "That's exactly right." He bucks his hips into yours and thrusts in and out a few more times before pulling out of you slowly. He sits back on his heels and grips the belt around your wrist, tugging you up gently, "On your knees, love."

You wince when he pulls out, raising an eyebrow as he tugs on your restraints but complying anyway. Wanting nothing more than to please him, you slip down to the floor and sit back on your knees.

As you position yourself in front of him, he glances down his body and smirks, "Made a mess of me, haven't you?" he sighs and shifts forward, moving closer to the edge of the sofa. "What can we do about that?" he asks, deflecting the question to you as he reaches out and grabs a handful of your hair, gently pulling your head back. "Give me your mouth."

The command lacks authority, but the intent is still there. He's on the edge and the very thought of tasting him causes your mouth to flood as you pant and open your mouth eagerly. 

He grips himself at the base and slowly glides his cock into your waiting mouth. "Fuuuuuuck yes," he hisses as he feels your lips close around him and shallowly dips in and out of them, gliding in a bit further each time.

Swallowing around his length, you lap at his tip greedily, dipping your tongue into his slit to taste him before he pushes in. Your tongue swirls around his length as he moves and you open your throat for him.

His breathing turns ragged as he watches you work up and down his shaft, groaning at the sight and feel of your tongue on the head of his cock. "That's it, clean up your mess," he purrs, stroking your hair as you take him in.

You moan around him, letting the vibrations resonate within your mouth before drawing back to look him in the eye as your tongue swirls around his tip. Your head bobs and you pull back to lap at his slit, again and again, all while maintaining eye contact with him.

He gazes at from under heavy lids, struggling to even out his breathing. Using his grip on your hair, he ruts into your mouth before slowly beginning to push you down while shifting hips up to ease his cock down your throat. "All the way down, love… Just like that," he whispers and holds you there once your nose hits his groin.

His length fills your throat and you make every effort to open your throat even further for him. Nuzzling the hair at his groin, you can't help but breathe him in, the musky scent making you whimper for him.

Feeling your breath against his skin and the vibrations from your voice, he drops head back, losing himself as he mutters, "Jesus Christ." He pushes in the slightest bit further, then draws your head up and off of his length in order to stand before looking down at you. His intentions for you are clear: "Keep going."

You lick your lips and lean forward, teasing his slit again before taking him in quickly. Your nose hits his groin as you swallow around him and swirl your tongue around his shaft, breathing him in again. You can hear his moans growing louder and you bring a hand up to fondle his balls gently.

Keeping his fingers twisted in your hair as he watches you, he groans, "God, that fucking mouth." Another moan slips out at the feeling of your hand on his balls and he can't resist the urge to buck his hips forward.

Swallowing around him again, you begin bobbing your head and moaning around his length to cause the vibrations again as you whimper for him, eager to taste his release.

His head drops back again and his voice is reduced to gentle whispers - "So good...that's so good" - as he starts to fuck your mouth harder, feeling the tension building, his cock thickening. "I think you've earned a reward...what do you want, hmm?" he asks, pulling on your hair so your eyes meet his. "Do you want my come?"

Your head follows his grip and you stare back at him, pleadingly, and nod as best as you can with his cock down your throat. Whimpering as you bob your head, even more, you swirl your tongue once more and begin sucking eagerly.

Reaching down, he presses the hand that's against his balls up a little more firmly, picks up his pace a bit, and exhales hard at the look in your eyes. "You fucking gorgeous thing, you can have it; you can have every last drop," he whines. The words are barely out of his mouth before his rhythm falters and stills as he pulses and floods your mouth with his release.

It's warm and thick as it hits your tongue and you whine, gripping his balls a bit more firmly, swallowing and bobbing head to work him through his orgasm. Your hand strokes his thigh to soothe him as you lap up every pulse.

"Christ!" he shouts, groaning as he staggers a bit before regaining his feet. He lets go of your hair and gently places both hands on your head as you wring him dry. His breathing is laboured and he's sucking in air faster than he can exhale.

Your hands grip his thighs to keep him righted, soothing him and easing him down from his release. It worries you to hear him breathing as he is, but you try to slow your own breaths in hopes that he'll pick up on them and try to match you.

Your hope holds out and after a few unsteady minutes, his breathing evens out, coming in slow inhales and shaky exhales. He withdraws slowly from your mouth and collects himself for a moment. As he comes down from his release, he grips himself and squeezes hard and slow, sliding his hand from tip to base, easing out a few final drops. "All of it," he says, the request coming out in a low, gravelly voice.

Your throat feels a bit raw but you lean forward instinctively, lapping at his tip and sucking him clean. It's been a little while since you've sucked him off like this and you love the way the taste of his orgasm lingers on your tongue.

"Ohh, yes," he breathes, watching you claim every last drop before he finds that he can't stand any longer. He drops back down to sit on the sofa, then sinks to his knees in front of you, putting his arms around you as he gathers you against his chest. He nudges your chin up with the tip of his nose in order to kiss you languidly, chasing the taste of himself on your tongue.

Cuddling against him, you sigh into the kiss, melting against his body as your tongue chases his lazily in return. The sensual intimacy of the kiss is almost more than you can take as he cups your cheek and you can't help huffing against his lips.

Feeling dazed, his eyes close and he gradually breaks off the kiss and reaches behind him to grab his button-down from the floor before undoing the belt at your wrists. It clatters against the wood floor as he rubs the reddened skin before helping you into his shirt and pulling you up onto the sofa with him as he moves to sit.

You slip into the shirt and curl up in it, leaning against the sofa and glancing at him with a lazy smirk. You just wouldn't be you if you didn't have something cheeky to say so you flash a tired smile at him and glance down at his flagging erection. "Well, did that meet your expectations?"

Leaning back against the back of the sofa, Martin arches an eyebrow, "Meet my expectations? Hm, no, I wouldn't say so." He scratches at his beard, seeming to ponder your question as he reaches out to button only the middle two buttons on the shirt, then pulls you to lay back against the arm of the sofa with him. He positions you between his legs so that your back is against his chest before speaking again. "If I'm thoroughly honest, I'd have to say that just about blew them away."

Following as he pulls you against him, you smile softly and shift until you're comfortable, curling up on his chest and rolling onto your belly so that you're face to face with him. You scratch his beard and roll your eyes playfully. "Cheeky thing," you whisper, kissing the tip of his nose before pulling back to nuzzle him.

He chuckles and kisses the top of your head as he holds you just a bit tighter. His eyes slip closed and he sighs contentedly. A lazy smile settles over his features as he feels the siren song of sleep calling him under. "You started it."


End file.
